The Duke Conspiracy: A Sweet Regency Romance Adventure (Mayfair Mayhem Book 1)

by Wendy May Andrews

  “I would hardly call that a cause to praise his dance skills.”

  “Clearly you have not had the misfortune of being partnered with some of the gentlemen I have been paired up with of late.” Elizabeth’s wry answer was followed by a teasing smile.

  “I cannot argue with you there, as I have been sorely lacking in dance partners.” Seeing that her friend was about to commiserate, Rose hastened to return to the subject at hand. “I am happy to hear that the duke’s title has clearly brought him previously unheard of skills,” Rose countered, feeling much more the thing after her momentary lapse of zest.

  “He was actually quite a lovely dance partner. Besides not stepping on my toes, he politely conversed with me and appeared to be very kind.”

  “How lovely,” Rose answered in a monotone, not wishing to prolong this particular conversation. “Did you have any other interesting experiences at the ball?”

  “Not particularly. While the Chorneys were perfect hosts, I found the ball to be much like any other I have attended and would much rather have been home on our estate curled up with a good book after a long day of riding or visiting our tenants or some such, anything other than being in a stuffy, crowded ballroom listening to bored society matrons rehashing the latest on dits.”

  The two girls shared a look of mutual agreement before Rose answered with reasonable aplomb. “I cannot help but agree with you wholeheartedly, but the trouble is that in order to attain a home of our own we need to marry. And apparently the only way one can marry is to go through this ridiculous charade one calls 'the Season.’ So, events such as the Chorney Ball are a necessary evil, would you not agree?”

  With a heartfelt sigh, Elizabeth nodded before mustering up a smile and adding, “At least with a friend who feels similarly it is not quite so dreadful.”

  “Exactly,” agreed Rose with a wide grin.

  Both girls were distracted by the clatter of approaching people. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that they had failed to hear the knocker. It would seem that their comfortable coze was at an end as Lady Elizabeth had more callers.

  “Lucky thing you came unfashionably early,” Elizabeth whispered just before the butler stepped into the room to announce the new arrivals.

  “Ladies Emmaline and Constance Chadwick to see you, my lady,” the staid older retainer intoned.

  Rose had to stifle her giggle as she watched her friend put on the airs expected of an aristocratic debutante. She watched in awe as her friend rose slowly to her feet, an air of boredom heavy upon her features.

  “Welcome, ladies,” she said, her usually cheerful voice dulled by her tones of ennui.

  Rose reflected that the ennui might not be fully feigned, as the new arrivals were not the most enjoyable company to spend time with. She could feel her own face pinching with a touch of distaste as she observed the two newcomers mincing into the room.

  “My darling Lady Elizabeth,” Emmaline began in a breathy voice that made Rose wish she could box her ears, “how charming to see you today.”

  “Yes, charming,” echoed her sister without an ounce of originality.

  Rose saw that Elizabeth could not maintain her bored façade as this struck her funny bone. “How lovely to see you,” the lady lied with a twinkle in her eye she quickly disguised by turning to introduce Rose. “Are you two familiar with my dear friend, Miss Rosamund Smythe?”

  Both girls dropped into curtsies that were the barest minimum of politeness, registering Rose’s social insignificance as a mere Miss.

  “We have not previously been introduced. How do you do?” Emmaline was forced to acknowledge.

  Suppressing her amusement as best she could, Rose dipped into her own practiced curtsy, far more experienced than the rest of the girls in the various nuances of social interaction from her years as a diplomat’s daughter. Ignoring their veiled jab, Rose offered them a charming smile.

  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Emmaline and Lady Constance. You are the daughters of Lord Chadwick, are you not? I have not been introduced to him, but my father has sung his praises on numerous occasions. As you are here for the Little Season, you no doubt know all about their work on Britain’s involvement at the Congress of Vienna.”

  The two sisters looked at Rose blankly for a moment, unsure how to respond to her. Rose kept her face as straight as possible as she observed their obvious confusion. They clearly thought it beneath their notice to follow politics, but since she had complimented their father, they could not snub her for what they would consider bluestocking tendencies.

  Constance gazed at her sister fretfully until Emmaline finally replied. “We and our mother have accompanied him to Town, as he likes to have our company, but we do not involve ourselves in his work.”

  “No, of course not,” Rose replied smoothly as she took her seat, leaving Emmaline to wonder if she had been dismissed by this upstart.

  Emmaline and Constance again shared a look of confused chagrin before Emmaline offered a weak smile as Elizabeth invited the two sisters to have a seat.

  “Will you two be staying for a visit? Should I ring for tea? This is not my usual at-home day so I am not expecting too many callers.”

  “How kind of you to offer,” Emmaline accepted as Constance murmured her thanks.

  Elizabeth tugged gently on the bell pull while Emmaline launched into an explanation of their visit.

  “We just had to stop in to compliment you on your coup of dancing with the Duke of Wrentham. Was it terribly exciting? Neither of us have yet had the privilege, so we wanted to hear it straight from you.”

  Rose studiously avoided meeting Elizabeth’s eyes as she awaited her reply. She was well aware her friend hated the thought of being the subject of gossip, but it was nearly impossible to completely avoid in the rarified company of the ton.

  There was a pause as the housekeeper wheeled in the tea trolley. Rose was certain that Elizabeth was hoping that the subject of her dance with the duke could now be avoided, but her wish was not granted.

  As soon as they were alone in the room once more, while Elizabeth was pouring the tea, Constance prompted, “So, how was your dance with the duke?”

  “I hardly thought it was a subject to be remarked upon. The duke had many partners on the dance floor last night,” Elizabeth remarked, attempting to stem the sisters’ questions.

  “’Tis true,” Emmaline acknowledged before turning a quelling look upon Constance, who had blathered, “We already spoke to Lady Anne Austen. She said his dance skills were divine.”

  Rose saw Elizabeth’s lips twitch with her amusement and was hard pressed not to laugh despite her discomfort with the subject of the duke.

  “I am sorry to disappoint you ladies. While I found him to be a pleasant enough dance partner I would hardly compare him to anything heavenly. In fact, I danced with Mr. Dylan Mead last night as well, and I will admit to you I thought he was a little more skilled than His Grace.”

  This resulted in twin looks of disbelief directed at her. “But he is merely an aide in the House,” Emmaline said with confusion colouring her tones.

  “That may be true, but he is a very good dancer.” Elizabeth shrugged with a sweet smile. “And he was particularly amusing. His Grace was pleasant enough, but it struck me that he might have had some weighty concerns on his mind last night.”

  “Ah yes.” The ladies looked relieved with this explanation. “Since his father’s death is not so long ago, it is quite likely that as a new duke he has many things to concern him.”

  Constance nodded seriously. “He is no doubt in need of a helpmate. The on-dit is that he is looking about for an appropriate duchess to take over some of the responsibilities upon his estate.”

  Rose managed not to roll her eyes at this remark but could barely stomach the look of sly pride upon Emmaline’s face as the lady commented, “Constance and I have been learning from our mama how to look after the tenants on our estate and run the household and suc
h so that we will be fully prepared when the time comes to take over such duties for our husbands.”

  “No doubt you will make some lucky gentlemen perfectly lovely wives,” Elizabeth replied politely. Rose could detect the effort she made to infuse some sincerity into her voice.

  “Is Chadwick a very large estate?” Rose inquired, which gained her a look of pitying disbelief from the sisters. Properly interpreting the look as a result of an arrogant assumption that everyone should be aware of their importance, Rose diplomatically smoothed the moment with her next words. “I have been out of the country for some time, so I am not as familiar with some of these things. You must forgive my ignorance.”

  This was exactly the right thing to say, Rose could see as the two girls warmed visibly to her at her admission, launching into a detailed description of Chadwick and how important it was. Rose actually was quite aware of many details of most of the landowners in the country, considering it an important piece of information for the role she had assigned herself as a diplomat’s daughter. She schooled her features into what she hoped was a look of polite interest and waited out the girls’ long-winded explanation.

  “How lovely,” she finally said, enjoying the flexibility of the expression, gracing them with a charming smile. “Perhaps one day we could see it for ourselves, as it would surely be a treat.”

  This utterance once again confounded the girls, as they were unsure if associating with Miss Smythe would be to their social advantage or disadvantage. They were saved from needing to respond by Elizabeth smoothly stepping in with a change of subject.

  “Never mind about our estates, we are in Town now, let us enjoy it while we can. Which events shall you be attending this evening?”

  Rose was again forced to admire her friend’s skills, as they had just been lamenting their longing for their estates.

  “We have been invited to the Duchess of Westfield’s dinner, and then we are going to a musicale hosted by the Duchess of Yorkleigh,” Emmaline answered with pride.

  “We shall be at the musicale as well,” Elizabeth replied as she rose to her feet, signalling the visit was drawing to an end. “It was so kind of you to stop in. We shall look forward to seeing you later this evening.”

  The visiting ladies were clearly disappointed not to have gotten any juicy details about the duke, but they accepted their dismissal with good grace. Delicately placing their teacups back into their saucers, they too rose to their feet and politely took their leave.

  As the door closed behind the Chadwick ladies, Elizabeth and Rose shared a quiet giggle. “Those two are too much,” Rose declared firmly.

  “But they are perfect specimens of the ton. Have you thought about how you are going to handle references to the duke throughout the Season? If what they had to say is true, or even if it is just wishful thinking on the part of many, His Grace is obviously going to be a top subject for the rumour mill. I am certain you do not wish to be remarked upon by being seen to shun him.”

  Rose appreciated her friend’s concern but loathed the need for it. “I had given the matter very little thought.” She paused for a moment of reflection before continuing in thoughtful tones. “You are, no doubt, quite correct that it will be remarked upon if I am obvious, but I would like to think I am capable of avoiding him without anyone noticing. I hardly think he is likely to search me out, so it is highly probable that this is a non-issue.”

  “Perhaps.” Elizabeth’s tone and dubious expression showed that she was unconvinced, but she did not press the issue. “Have you considered the possibility of ending the feud between your two families? I am sure it is an uncomfortable subject, but has it been discussed in your family?”

  Rose knew her friend was trying to be helpful, so she made every effort to rein in the strong feelings that threatened to overwhelm her response. “Their son is responsible for the death of my brother. I do not see how any relationship between our families is possible.”

  “They lost a son too,” Elizabeth answered quietly. “Perhaps you could grieve together.”

  This possibility had never occurred to Rose, but her feelings were still too raw to consider it, despite the three years that had passed. “It is unlikely my parents would entertain the suggestion. And considering the scene the last time we were all in a room together, I have my doubts either the duchess or her son would be amenable to the idea either. Never mind about that, I know you are just being a good friend, but let us allow the subject to drop for now. You are absolutely right that my parents and I shall have to better prepare ourselves to face them if we are to go about amongst the ton this Season. Now tell me, what do you plan to wear to the musicale? I have every intention of sitting with you, so we must ensure our dresses do not clash.”

  Elizabeth allowed the change of subject, and Rose was happy to feel a giggle coming on at her friend’s look of disbelief. “My dear Rose, surely you realize that as debutantes nothing we are allowed to wear could ever clash with each other. All whites and pastels go together rather mundanely in my opinion.”

  “True enough. But your lovely complexion allows you to wear some colours that would make me look rather sallow. My mother would never allow me to sit near you if I am going to be made to look hideous by comparison.”

  “Do not be a hen wit, I beg of you. Or are you fishing for compliments? You know full well that nothing you could ever wear or be near could make you look hideous.”

  Rose reached over and clasped her friend’s hand warmly. “That right there is why you are such a good friend. You are the most generous girl I have ever met. You can be sure neither of the Chadwick ladies would have said such a thing.”

  Elizabeth offered a small shrug. “I merely speak the truth.”

  Rose glanced up as the large clock chimed the hour. “Well, heavens, I have certainly overstayed any semblance of politesse, have I not? I apologize, but my only excuse is that I was so enjoying your company.”

  “Absolutely no apology needed. I am sufficiently experienced as a hostess that I could have dismissed you had I so wished.”

  “That I cannot argue with, as I witnessed your skills in that regard just a few moments ago with the Chadwick ladies.” The two girls shared a smile before Rose continued, “But I really must be going. Mama will have apoplexy if I am not home in what she considers sufficient time to rest and prepare before this evening’s entertainments.”

  “Very well, you may leave then,” Elizabeth laughed. “It is for the best, as I expect you to arrive at the Yorkleighs’ with enough time to spare so that we can find seats together before the performances begin.”

  With that the two girls bade each other adieu, Rose collected her maid, who had been waiting in the kitchen all this time, and the two enjoyed the brisk walk home together.

  Chapter Three

  The Earl and Countess of Yorkleigh will be well able to congratulate themselves on the success of their evening, Rose mused to herself during a break in the performances, while Elizabeth had taken herself off to check in with her mother. Rose had elected to remain behind, as she was enjoying her mother’s good favour for once and had not been commanded to similarly meet up during the intermission. Besides, the girls had managed to find excellent seats, and Rose wanted to guard them lest someone else decided to change seats.

  The milling guests were fascinating to watch. Having honed her powers of observation in Vienna, Rose was determined to keep up her skills. She found one could learn so much about a person by watching their interactions. She was gazing about, enjoying herself far more than she would have expected, when she overheard a snippet of conversation that made her feel as though the blood had frozen in her veins.

  “Have you managed to secure Wrentham yet?”

  Rose was quite sure she had heard that rough male voice before, but she could not place who it belonged to and dared not crane around to see who it was. The voice did not evoke anything good, and a shiver of dread went down her spine. The tone made her well aware that this conversat
ion was not mere pleasantries, and the mention of the duke had her ears on high alert.

  Rose’s heart galloped in her chest. She was flooded with a tide of conflicting emotions. The familiar but unpleasant voice provoked fear and disgust in her breast, while mention of the duke swept her with a maelstrom of anger and heat. She sat as still as a statue but made every effort to ensure no trace of her thoughts were written upon her face. Rose hoped fervently that Elizabeth would not return and interrupt before she could figure out what was being discussed.

  “Not as yet. This type of plan takes time to bring to completion.”

  “How long can it take to compromise the man?” the first voice demanded harshly. “Your daughter is sufficiently taking. She isn’t daft, is she?”

  “My daughter is a good girl,” the man excused and explained, his voice whining. “She knows what is expected of her and will have the thing tied up nicely very soon.”

  “Well, see that she does. We need Wrentham for his access to certain quarters, as well you know.”

  The two men must have realized this was not the appropriate venue for such a conversation as they broke off anything further they might have said and moved away. Rose quickly turned her head to watch them retreat. The first voice she had finally placed, and if it were at all possible her blood had actually grown colder as she realized who had spoken, but the second man, the one with the daughter, she was unfamiliar with. Rose was profoundly relieved to see Elizabeth returning.

  “Quickly, Elizabeth, as discreetly as possible, turn around and see if you can identify the short man walking toward the back of the room with the rather wild-looking hair, wearing the puce-coloured waistcoat.”

  “Do you mean Lord Austen?” Elizabeth asked.

  “If I knew who I meant I would not have asked,” Rose answered with a waspish huff before apologizing. “Sorry, my dear, my ignorance offends me at times.”

  “Never mind about that, why did you want to know?”

  “I was merely curious about who he was. I was entertaining myself watching people while you were gone, and I was wondering how it was possible he managed to leave the house looking that way.” The hastily made-up story did the trick as Elizabeth tinkled with laughter.